


Confessions

by tiffdawg



Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Dirty Talk, Edging, F/M, Mild Language, Oral Sex, Sex, no y/n
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:59:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23505748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiffdawg/pseuds/tiffdawg
Summary: "It was a relief to say those three little, weighty words out loud."
Relationships: Javier Peña/Reader
Comments: 10
Kudos: 101





	1. Shift This Weight

**Author's Note:**

> I set out to write some soft!Javi, but this ended up kinda sad and much smuttier than I originally intended. This is going to be a three-part series I’ll be posting over the next week or so and I promise you, soft Javi is coming after this. I suppose a little angst is unavoidable when Javi’s in love. smh.

You’d known Javier Peña for years. Your stints at Quantico had overlapped however briefly, but it was more than enough time to strike up a casual flirtation with no expectations. 

While it never amounted to anything, you’d enjoyed his game of cat and mouse in between classes and training sessions in the weeks leading up to your graduation and subsequent departure. You’d been assigned to a post as a field agent on the other side of the country, and you jumped at the rare opportunity, more than eager to prove yourself.

Looking back, you realized the two of you never said a proper goodbye. There was just that one stolen kiss and a softly muttered _congratulations_ in a deserted hallway after your commencement ceremony. You felt the brush of lips against yours even days later as you boarded a plane bound for Los Angeles, one-way ticket in hand. You’d thought you’d never see him again, but perhaps some small part of you knew even then it wouldn’t be the last you crossed paths with the young hotshot from Texas.

… . ...

The City of Angels was good to you. The ridiculous traffic was a small price to pay for the gorgeous weather and endless coastline and despite a few missteps at the beginning you settled nicely into your new role as a DEA agent. But even though work was steady and you had a close circle of friends, you couldn’t help but feel like something was missing. When you were offered a position at the US embassy in Colombia, you shocked everyone, yourself included, when you took the position without a moment’s hesitation.  
You were only half surprised when you walked into the embassy building on your first official day and crashed right into Javier, literally colliding with the man from your past as you scrambled to find your new office.

“I heard you might be coming down,” he said with a smirk, “Happy to see the rumors were true.”

You couldn’t help but return the smile, happy to find a familiar face amongst unfamiliar surroundings. You were both older and it showed; you could see it etched into his handsome features, felt it in your tired bones. The realities of the job had worn down the bright-eyed kids you were at the academy into hardened agents.

“Happy to be here, Agent Peña,” you shot back with a wink, suddenly feeling much more confident despite your disorientation.

“Follow me, _chiquita_.”

How could you resist?

… . ... 

Javier resumed his flirting with you as if no time had passed, as if you weren’t his colleague and partner, as if he wasn’t sleeping with half the available women in Bogota. You played along with his game even as you felt your feelings for the man blossom into something new and dangerous.

Still, the professional in you had managed to hold yourself together well enough. At least you did until everything came to an unavoidable crescendo one fateful night almost a year after your arrival in Colombia. You’d had a frightfully close call during a raid on some low-level _sicarios_ hiding out in Medellin. The kind of near miss that made your whole past flash before your eyes and made you rethink your present and future.

Javi was standing close to you, the rise and fall of his chest matching yours as you both fought to steady your breathing post-shoot out. He scanned you for injuries with his deep brown eyes, closely inspecting the cut on your cheek with a gentle prodding fingertip. He was remarkably unscathed save for the mental scarring of narrowly missing a bullet meant for his skull. 

You weren’t sure whether it was the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins or the thought of him almost dying that propelled you forward but you cupped his face between your still shaking hands and kissed him. It wasn’t some chaste, teasing peck like before. It was a needy, messy melding of mouths. He reciprocated immediately and eagerly, pulling you flush against him despite the awkwardness of your bullet proof vests. It was everything you didn’t know you’d been waiting for all those years.

... . ...

A few months later, you found yourself sitting in a dimly lit bar not far from the embassy. That day had been _stressful_ , to say the very least. Murphy, ever the optimist, at least when compared to Peña’s special brand of skepticism, had suggested drinks after leaving the office, inviting both you and Javier. While your illicit office romance was still very much a secret, Murphy definitely knew. Javi wasn’t shy about undressing you with his eyes from his desk across from yours, especially now that he knew what was underneath your pantsuits, and your witty remarks to his advances held a lot less bite than they did before.

You’d tried but failed to drown your frustrations with tequila and polite conversation with Steve and Connie, but by your third drink it was clear you needed something stronger. And from the way Javier’s dark eyes found yours over the rim of his glass and across the bar top, he shared your sentiment.

If you couldn’t drink away your problems, maybe you could fuck them out of your system.

Which is how you ended up back at your apartment an hour later, stark naked and straddling Javier’s lap as you rode him as fast and hard as your shaking legs would allow.

The closer you got to your climax, the more your steady rhythm faltered. “Hey, I got you, _hermosa_ ,” he said, and your eyes snapped open. He started to thrust up, taking over for you. “Touch yourself. Cum all over this cock.”

Your fingers found your clit, just as he’d told you to, and with a few well-timed strokes you were coming hard, unraveling on top of him. Your body went completely limp, with only his hands, one on your hip and the other grabbing at your breast, to hold you upright. You felt yourself clenching around his thick length as you rode out your orgasm and he spat out a string of intelligible curses in Spanish.

“Where? Where, baby?” he said through gritted teeth.

You released yourself from his grasp and knelt between his legs, taking him into your mouth completely. A few more errant thrusts and you were swallowing around him, taking every drop he gave you. When you pulled off, you opened your mouth to show him it was all gone.

“Fuck you’re perfect,” he mumbled, taking your face between his hands and kissing you obscenely. He pulled you back up his body, never breaking the kiss, to lay next to him. You giggled as he continued to kiss you through ragged breaths while he came down from his own release. His greedy hands still roamed your body, kneading the soft flesh of your thighs and ass. “So fucking perfect, _hermosa_.”

You smiled into his kiss, basking in the afterglow and feeling something akin to actual happiness. Something you’d long thought was out of reach for someone in your line of work. Everything just felt better with Javi. He made your life better, made you better. Even when the world seemed to be crashing down around you. Even when catching Escobar seemed like an impossible task. 

You wanted to come home to this, with him, every damn day and he deserved to know just how much he meant to you after all these years. Those very words were overwhelming you, begging to be spoken into existence.

“I’m in love with you,” you said against his lips. You felt him still beneath you and you pulled away just enough to look him in the eye, wanting him to see that you truly mean what you were saying. You needed him to know it wasn’t some post-orgasmic slip of the tongue. It was real. “You don’t have to say it back. I know you probably don’t even want to hear it, I just- I needed to tell you. It was suffocating me not to tell you. I love you, Javi.”

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t so much as blink. Usually you could read him easily, his ever-expressive eyes always betrayed his emotions, but that night his face gave nothing away. The only indication that he heard you and was contemplating your words was the gnashing of his jaw as he ground his teeth.

Finally, he placed a firm hand on your cheek, bringing you closer so he could press his lips to your temple. He forwent his usual cigarette to lay with you, settling you firmly against his chest. 

His reaction startled you; it certainly wasn’t what you were expecting. You doubted he felt the same, and part of you thought he might run out of the apartment or even throw a few curses your way for shattering what was supposed to be a casual arrangement. His silence and the way he cradled you to his chest was more than a little confusing.

Eventually your racing thoughts lulled, and you started to drift off to sleep, allowing yourself to fantasize that he might stay the whole night with you. That you might at least get the luxury of waking up next to him in the morning, warm golden sunlight streaming in through your thin curtains to bathe his tanned skin like you’d always imagined. 

Instead, he slipped out from beneath your sheets, gathered his clothes strewn about your room, and quietly left.

You laid there for a while after that, stomach turning as you watched the red numbers of your alarm clock rise steadily, signaling the coming dawn, and you replayed the night in your mind. You didn’t regret what you said. No, you’d learned from your past heartbreaks that being open and vulnerable was the only way to be true to yourself. As hard as that was sometimes. You knew you were taking things in a direction he never wanted to go, but it was stifling to remain standing at the proverbial crossroads of loving him silently or never speaking your truth. It was a relief to say those three little, weighty words out loud. Still, you wracked your brain trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind his actions. He hadn’t said another word the rest of the night, but he’d stayed.

Until he hadn’t. In the end he left you without so much as a goodbye. As you frustratedly buried your face into your pillow and willed yourself to fall asleep, you wondered if that was the last night you’d ever spend with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish Translations  
> Chiquita: little girl  
> Hermosa: beautiful
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. What We Have Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised soft Javi and I intend to deliver. I mean, I think this is pretty soft for our favorite sad DEA agent...

Leaving Javier alone in his bedroom as he haphazardly tossed his clothes, laundered or otherwise, into his old, beat-up suitcase, you wandered into the kitchen in search of something cold and preferably alcoholic to drink. You pulled a couple of beer bottles out of his poorly stocked fridge, scowling as you tried to decipher the expiration labels. He hardly spent any time at his apartment anymore and your skepticism was justified. With a shrug, you decided it didn’t really matter and started rooting around his kitchen drawers for a bottle opener.

“ _A su derecha_ ,” a soft baritone offered from behind you. Pulling open the drawer to your right, the last one, you finally found what you were searching for. You popped off the caps, each one emitting a fizzy hiss, and handed a bottle to him. He took a long swig and you found yourself admiring the length of his neck as he drank, your eyes drawn down the bare expanse of his chest to the confluence of his shirt, noticing that once again he’d seemingly forgotten to fasten the top three buttons.

Shaking your head at yourself, you brought your own bottle to your lips, hoping to distract your mind from the man across from you.

Your relationship with Javier miraculously survived the past few months, despite your inconvenient admission. The week that followed that night was practically unbearable. You hardly saw him, even at work where you were supposed to share an office space, and you were certain your affair was over, that avoidance and uncomfortable silence would be the new normal between you two.

Then a week later, almost down to the minute, he knocked on your door late on a rainy Saturday night and willingly wandered right back into your bed and your heart. What you said was never brought up again, never properly acknowledged. It just sat there between the two of you, but you decided that you really didn’t mind. He knew how you felt and that was all that mattered to you; the rest would work itself out – one way or the other.

Somehow your strange romance also endured the constant, chaotic chase for Escobar. Even survived Javier’s unorthodox dealings with _Los Pepes_.

 _Sometimes you have to do bad things to catch bad people_.

It was something he said every now and again, sometimes to others but often murmured under his breath to himself as he struggled to justify his own actions. You understood the truth of it all too well yourself; it wasn’t too difficult to absolve him of his sins.

The sound of his half empty bottle hitting the countertop with a little more force than necessary brought you back to the present moment. Javier was being sent back to the states and he was anything but thrilled about it. He was more stressed than usual. He’d been chain smoking all afternoon, half a pack of cigarettes already polished off, as he attempted to pack up part of his life in Colombia, not knowing what he was going to be met with stateside.

“I don’t know how long I’m going to be gone. Shit, I don’t even know if I’ll be back,” He said, frustratedly rubbing at the tension building in his shoulder. He abandoned his drink and strayed back into the living room. You sat your bottle next to his and followed quietly, hoping that if you didn’t say anything, he’d finally tell you what was weighing on his mind.

You watched him pace the length of the room a couple of times before stopping to face. He stood across from you, hands of his hips and a pleading look on his face. “I don’t know what to do about...” he trailed off and his gaze fell, no longer able to meet yours. He sat down on the old couch and buried his face in his hands, his elbows resting on bent knees.

“I know, Jav. But we’ll figure it out.” You tried to reassure him, but you didn’t know what to say beyond a simple, vague platitude.

“How can you-” He shook his head as he stumbled over his words uncharacteristically. “You always-”

You shrugged and moved towards him closing the gap between the two of you. “We just will.”

He watched you closely. Though you weren’t sure what he was looking for, you were familiar with his calculating stare. You’d been on the receiving end of it almost as many times as you’d seen him analyze a suspect, an informant, hell, even your fellow agents.

“What’s really bothering you, Javi?” you prompted. These were uncharted waters and he looked like a man drowning.

He swallowed hard before running a hand over his face. “I don’t know.”

You shot him a knowing look and he sighed.

“I- “he started through a lump in his throat. It was as if his words were threatening to strangle him. You watched his eyes dance across the room and realized he was panicking. Really, truly panicking. “I- “

“It’s okay, Javi” you breathed out when you finally grasped what was really upsetting him. You placed a gentle hand under his chin to tilt his face up so he would look at you again, “I know you love me.”

His dark eyes locked onto yours, before falling shut. All of the air escaped his chest as he sighed, his shoulders slumping. For a moment, you thought you might’ve upset him, but you quickly realized that he was _relieved_ , which was nothing short of a foreign look for him. Hands at your hips, he pulled you closer until you were standing between his parted legs and he could wrap his arms around your waist. He held you as close to him as possible, the side of his face pressed against your stomach and your arms habitually fell across his broad shoulders.

You’d known he loved you for a long time.

You felt it in his actions. While you could never pinpoint exactly when he stopped sleeping with other women – you had your suspicions it was actually before the one time you professed your love to him aloud, but you couldn’t be sure – you knew without a doubt it had stopped after he showed up at your apartment that fateful night. You didn’t have to ask him about it either; he wasn’t spending his nights with other women anymore because he was in bed with you every night. And he made you breakfast most mornings. He kept your coffee mug full all day at work, which was no small task. He always went out of his way to ensure you were respected at the embassy and even did his best to keep you from being too overworked, always comforting you when it all became too much, just as you did for him. He spent Friday nights watching old Colombian sitcoms and drinking cheap alcohol at your apartment and Saturday’s running errands at the open-air market alongside you. He spent all of his precious free time with you and you gave yours willingly to him.

Javier Peña loved you, even if he never put it into words.

You wouldn’t have stayed with him if you thought he didn’t love you. You were a strong woman, fiercely independent and self-confident. And because of that, you were inclined to wait for him to meet you halfway, to hold onto his love for him as long as he needed you to.

All this time you thought by not saying anything, you were sparing him. But maybe by taking the burden from him, you were saving him from himself.

You carded your fingers through his dark locks, and he looked up at you with wide brown eyes. “You know I love you too, right?” you whispered quietly. He gave a short, curt not and you would’ve missed it if you hadn’t been watching his face so closely.

Then, his hands moved from the small of your back to your waistband, fingers toying with the button of your jeans without ever taking his eyes from yours.

“Let me,” he pleaded, “please.”

You silently nodded your assent and he carefully stripped every layer of clothing from your body before laying you down on the couch. He positioned you gently, as if handling something fragile, as if he didn’t know from his own personal experience that you wouldn’t break under his rougher touches.

Javier hurriedly tossed his own clothes aside, undressing with much less decorum, before he moved over you, hovering for a long moment as he took in the sight before him. There was something almost reverent in the way he looked at you and it made your heart soar as you ran the pad of your finger across his jawline, wanting to always remember his expression in this moment. When he finally kissed you, it was a slow, heavy, as if savoring the feel of your lips against his. His tongue swept across your lower lip, seeking permission to enter, before gently caressing yours and exploring your mouth as he’d done a thousand times before. That night he tasted like tobacco and stale beer and something so familiar, so him.

Parting from your lips only to suck in a deep breath, his chest heaving against yours, he pressed a scorching trail of open-mouthed kisses down your neck and across sternum. A warm sensation radiated from every inch of skin his lips met and shot straight to your core. He only stopped his downward movement to lave and suck at a peaked nipple, kneading your other breast with his calloused hand. You wove your fingers through his dark locks, wanting to hold him in place against you for as long as possible.

After leaving a couple of deep red marks on the swell of your chest, something you’d normally chastise him for, his mouth and hand switched places and you cried out when he bit down on your nipple _just_ hard enough. By now he knew your body better than anyone ever had. He knew how to make you writhe and whimper beneath him, how to make you cry from pleasure.

You never knew it could be so good, not until you met him, and even then, not until you loved him, and he loved you.

His hand slipped between your bodies, seeking out your aching cunt only to find you soaked. “Fuck, _hermosa_ ,” he mumbled into your skin as he continued his descent, pressing kisses into the soft skin of your stomach and still lower, but not quite where you wanted him most. Not yet. Once he settled in between your parted legs, he resumed his teasing, nipping and sucking at the supple flesh of your thighs until finally you called out to him.

“Javi, please,” you practically sobbed, “I need you. Now. Please, _please_ \- “

Your begging was cut short as a lewd moan escaped your lips when he finally attached his lips to your throbbing bud, and you keened under him. He sucked on your clit, taking you right to the edge with a firm hand placed on your lower belly to keep you steady beneath him, the other wrapped around your thigh, spreading you wide for him. You were so worked up at this point, you knew it wouldn’t take much for you to finish.

“I’m gonna- “

“Not yet,” he said and as his warm mouth left your swollen bud, you really did sob, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

“Oh God, Javier!” you exclaimed, throwing your head back against the couch’s armrest and squeezing your eyes shut.

“Gonna make this last,” was all he said before continuing his assault, licking a broad stripe up your wet center. His mouth explored every curve, every fold, every bit of your sex but each time you were close to unraveling beneath him, he’d pull away just long enough for you to catch your breath, pausing to kiss your soft thighs, spreading your wetness across your flushed skin.

“Look at you,” he remarked with his gravelly voice, the words vibrating against your mound, “Your pussy is fucking dripping all over me, baby.”

“Fuck, Javi. I need- I need to cum,” you said through strangled breaths.

“Is that what you want, _hermosa_?” he asked, pressing a single digit into your center, pumping slowly. You clenched around him and he rewarded you with a second finger, but it still wasn’t nearly enough.

“Yes!” you wailed, “That’s what I want. Stop- stop fucking teasing me.” 

For once in his goddamn life, he listened. He swirled his tongue across your clit with just the right amount of pressure, just the way you liked it, and you came with a wanton cry for all of Bogota to hear. It didn’t matter; the entire world had faded away, your mind empty of everyone and everything save one person, one name.

 _Javi_.

His name fell from your lips repeatedly, like a prayer or a curse. You weren’t quite sure which.

When the ringing in your ears subsided and your vision finally cleared, you looked down to find him gazing at you from his place between your legs, a satisfied smile and your arousal smeared across his face.

“Javi,” you huffed, “please fuck me.”

He crawled up your body and pressed his nose to your cheek, your heated breaths mingling. “No.” he murmured lowly. Before you could ask him what he meant, your question died on your lips as he sealed his mouth to yours. Reaching between you, he lined the head of his cock with your still-pulsing cunt and you eagerly lifted your hips to meet his, encouraging him to enter you. Despite how wet you were, he slid in slowly, whether for your benefit or his enjoyment, you weren’t sure.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, _mi amada_ ,” he growled in your ear as he seated himself fully within you, “Could stay in this pretty pussy forever. Never want to leave. Never want to leave you.”

Whether he was talking about leaving Colombia or leaving you didn’t matter. The feeling of him inside you, stretching you out deliciously, mixed with his tender words was overwhelming every one of your senses in the best way and a new wave of desire coursed through your veins. This was his silent confession relayed to you physically, a language he knew when words seemed to fail him, and you wanted to stay in that moment forever.

“Oh, Javi,” you moaned to him as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, “I love you so much.” It was all you needed to say to spur him on. He withdrew himself before driving his cock back into you, setting a steady pace as his hips snapped against yours. He wasn’t going to last much longer.

Your name fell from his lips as he came, pulling out just in time to spill across your abdomen.

Javier stood with a grunt, disappearing long enough to grab a towel from the kitchen and snag your long-forgotten drinks off the counter. He sat the bottles aside before tending to you, carefully cleaning his spend off of you. Tossing the cloth aside, he collapsed on top of you, pressing you into the couch with his full weight and earning a spirited laugh from you. You shifted just enough so you could breath and lazily trail your fingers down his back, drawing abstract shapes across his skin while memorizing the feel of his body against yours.

As you relaxed on the cramped loveseat, a tangled mess of sweaty limbs, you reached for the jeans he’d tossed aside earlier, pulling out his pack and lighter from his pocket. You handed him a cigarette and he placed it between his kiss-swollen lips. Flicking the lighter to life, you held it out for him, watching his every move as he took his first drag, turning slightly to exhale away from you.

When he looked down at you again, he smiled. You’d missed that rare gift he’d sometimes bestow upon you. It’d been a long time since you’d seen one.

“You always know just what I need, _mi amada_ ,” he drawled.

It was only the second time he’d ever called you that, and you were determined to commit the sound to memory, to savor every syllable for the rest of your life.

“I don’t want you to go,” you admitted quietly. He brought his hand back to his mouth, inhaling deeply once more before stamping out the half-finished cigarette in the ashtray on the end table. Eyeing you seriously, he considered his next words for a long, drawn-out moment.

“Come with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish Translations  
> A su derecha: to your right  
> Hermosa: beautiful  
> Mi amada: my beloved
> 
> Thanks for reading! Part three is coming soon...


	3. Breathe In Your Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter and as promised soft Javi is here. I had so much fun writing this story and I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for reading!

The sounds of Bogota – squeals of children playing in the streets, gossip shared between neighbors, the bell of a street vendor’s cart passing by – drifted in through the open window and pulled you from your slumber. A gentle breeze rustled the curtains and kissed your exposed skin, the bedsheets a tangled mess around your limbs, as you stretched life back into your well-rested body. Without opening your eyes, you reached across the bed only to find yourself alone. 

But the empty space was still warm.

“ _Mi amada_ ,” a low voice beckoned from behind you. 

You sat up, finally opening your eyes to the bright Sunday morning, and found Javier offering you a steaming mug of your favorite Colombian tea. You’d promised to cut back your copious caffeine consumption in solidarity with his attempt to stop smoking, and the crisp, clean minty tea laced with fragrant bits of tropical fruit – a delicious aroma of soursop and guava and a hint of citrus – was now part of your morning ritual. You took a tentative sip, testing the heat of the tea on your tongue, as you peered over the rim at him. 

Your eyes followed Javi, enchanted by the golden summer light streaming in through the curtains behind him, warming his tanned features, bare save for the sleep pants hanging dangerously low on his hips, as he walked around the bed to his side.

You remembered a time when these stolen moments were just a dream. By some stroke of luck, your fantasies became your reality. And yet the truth was so much better than you ever imagined. Even though all the struggles that accompanied any relationship were compounded by the fact that you were both stressed, overworked DEA agents, every day with him still felt like a beautiful dream.

When Javier was sent back to the states, you’d joined him for a brief respite from work, grateful for the accrued vacation days you’d never found a use for before. It’d been a shock to you both when he narrowly escaped reprimand only to be sent back to Colombia with a new mission. While you had your pick of assignments after helping take down Escobar, you remained in Bogota as well. It just wouldn’t have been that same without Javi by your side.

It was a different cartel the second time around, but the same old tired game. 

Now, your jobs were done, and half of your shared apartment was already in boxes – your stuff and his mixed together, heading to the same undetermined location. Neither of you had decided where to go or what to do next. The DEA had been your entire lives for so long that it was difficult to envision what should come after. But you were going to figure it out together.

Javi slipped back beneath the sheets, relaxing against the headboard. With an arm held out to you in silent welcome, he offered you the space next to him. You tucked yourself in, resting your back against his chest, and the two of you sipped at your drinks in a comfortable silence, perfectly content to enjoy the slow morning.

He pressed a single, lingering kiss to your temple, and you let out a deep breath, feeling yourself melt into his embrace. You treasured times like this with him, and in that moment, you knew you would go anywhere with him because this, right there with him, already felt like _home_.

Suddenly, Javi shifted behind you, setting his coffee mug on the nightstand before taking your half-finished drink from you. 

“Hey–” Confused you sat up to level him with an accusing stare, but whatever witty remark you thought of making faded away, derailed by the raw look in his wide eyes. The hint of a soft smile played at the corner of his mouth, easing your worries as his calloused hand cupped your face.

“I love you,” he confessed.

You stilled at his words, uncertain, for a moment, if you’d heard him correctly.

“Javi,” you sighed, his name nothing more than a breath parting your lips. You’d almost abandoned any hope of hearing those three little words from him. You’d still dreamed of his deep voice uttering that singular phrase to you, of course, but you realized a long time ago that you didn’t actually need to hear it to know it was true. 

You studied his face carefully, relieved when you couldn’t detect so much as a hint of fear or panic. Instead, he looked resolved, assured. He looked happy. Now, not only did you share the same feelings for one another, but your love was spoken. It was free. Mirroring his position, you placed a gentle hand on his cheek, feeling the curve of his widening smile against your palm. “I love you too.”

“I know–” he said, choking over his own words, “I still can’t believe that.” With strong hands, he drew you into his lap. There was an urgency to his movements, like he needed you closer to him the same way he needed air to breath, but when he pressed his lips to yours, his kisses were slow and tender, as if you had all the time in the world for each other. Maybe you finally did. 

Soon, languid kisses deepened, turned needy and desperate. Until only the need for air forced you to part, if only for a moment. Foreheads touching, you beamed at each other as you caught your breaths.

“I don’t know how I got so damn lucky,” he murmured in between soft pecks to your cheeks, your jawline, and even one on your nose. You could only shake your head at his ministrations, having been wondering the exact same thing about him.

“Make love to me, Javi,” you whispered against his lips.

“ _Always_.”

Wanting to hold him even closer, you draped your arms around his shoulders, letting the bedsheets fall from your body, and pulled him to you. He let go of you only to wrap your legs around his waist, his hands soon returning to wander reverently over your soft body. He felt so warm and solid beneath you, and you never wanted this moment to end. You ran your fingers through his ruffled hair, already disheveled from sleep, as he kissed a path down the delicate skin of your neck. 

Your hips instinctively rolled against his, grinding against his half-hard cock, and you let out an annoyed huff when you were met with the fabric of his sleep pants. Sensing your frustration, he tugged his pants down just enough to free himself, and he lazily stroked his cock to its full length as he nuzzled affectionately against your jaw. “This what you need, baby?”

“Oh! Yes, Javi– Please,” you mewled before capturing his lips in a searing kiss, “Need you– Need you inside of me.”

“I’m gonna give you everything you need, _mi amor_.” Sliding a hand between your parted legs, he found you soaked. “You’re already so wet for me? Fuck– You’re so amazing. So perfect.” 

He gathered some of your arousal to spread across his length, before lining the head of his cock at your entrance. With firm hands on your hips, he guided you down slowly, making sure you took every inch of him, and you moaned against his lips at the way he stretched you when fully seated inside of you. 

That morning there was no rush, no hurry. Only the gentle rocking of his hips against yours. On each forward roll, you felt every ridge of his cock drag against your walls, every brush of your sensitive bud against the soft curls covering his pelvis, and every little movement sent waves of pleasure crashing over you. He filled you so completely, so intimately, and your position allowed you to hold each other’s gaze. His warm brown eyes shining with love never left yours. 

As you looked at Javi, your whole future flashed before your eyes: a small home somewhere quiet, maybe a couple of kids with those same deep brown eyes– God, they’d get away with everything– and a golden retriever. There’d be family vacations with the Murphey’s and trips to visit their _abuelo_ in Texas. It would be a peaceful life because that was what Javier deserved. It was what you both deserved after everything you’d been through, everything you’d sacrificed, and you suddenly wanted it more than anything. You wanted it with him. 

For the first time, it felt possible.

Javi held you against him as you came, murmuring sweet nothings in Spanish against the shell of your ear. It was only as the haze of your pleasure lifted, that you realized what he was saying.

“ _Eres el amor de mi vida_.”

Squeezing your eyes shut to hold back a few errant tears, your hold on him tightened as you hugged him against you, never wanting to let go. He burrowed his face in crook of your neck, groaning into your flushed skin, and with a few more languid thrusts, he came deep inside of you, coating your walls with his spend.

“I love you so fucking much,” he said breathlessly, resting his forehead against yours, “I’m sorry I couldn’t say it sooner. I’m sorry it took–”

“Don’t you dare apologize, Jav.” You took his face in your hands and made sure he was looking at you. “I always knew. You didn’t have to say it.”

“I know you did. But you deserve to hear it,” he said soberly. “And I’m going to spend every day of the rest of my life saying it. I’m never going to let you forget it.”

“That could be a long time,” you suggested playfully. 

“I’m counting on it, _mi amor_.”

Still holding you in his lap, he leaned over and dug around in the drawer of his nightstand, eventually pulling out a small velvet box. 

“Javi,” you gasped in disbelief. You searched his eyes for some sort of explanation, amazed that he was picturing the same life you’d just imagined. Although, considering he already had the ring, he might’ve been ahead of you for once. He just smiled at you. 

“I never thought that I could have this. Didn’t even realize how badly I wanted it, needed it, until I fell in love with you.” He popped open the box, revealing an elegantly simple diamond ring. “Marry me?”

“Yes,” you sobbed around a smile, “Of course, Javi.”

After he slid the ring onto your finger, he embraced you, kissing you passionately before unceremoniously tossing you backwards on the bed. 

“What are you doing?” you squealed as you bounced against the mattress. 

“What does it look like I’m doing, _mi amor_?” he asked as he lied down between your legs, throwing both over his shoulders, “I’m gonna eat my _fiancée’s_ pussy for breakfast.”

“Oh my God,” you laughed as he grinned up at you, heart bursting in your chest. You knew you wouldn’t be getting out of bed anytime soon that day and as you reached down to brush a stray lock off his forehead, marveling at the way the sunlight glinted off your new ring, you knew you wouldn’t have it any other way. “I love you, Javi.”

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish Translations  
> Mi amada: my beloved  
> Mi amor: my love  
> Eres el amor de mi vida: you are the love of my life

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Part two is coming soon...


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